


Lost Dreamer

by moosemum



Series: Myss Stories [8]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Destiny 2 Forsaken, F/F, destiny awoken, destiny forsaken - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 14:39:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16020008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moosemum/pseuds/moosemum
Summary: Forsaken's story wasa timefor Myss, but not for the reasons you may initially think.Reading chapters68&69of MyssMara is recommended before starting this





	1. Distracted

Casper, Iris, and both Hunters had felt poor Sundance go. The immense blast of Light she’d held shook them to their core and filled them with dread, their vision blinded for a moment. They’d fought their way down, trying to get to their Vanguard as soon as possible, but these corrupted Fallen kept blocking their way. Amara elected to run ahead, deftly dodging every enemy she could - just to try and reach Cayde in time - while Myss hung back to cull the horde.

They were too late.

She’d run up on the scene just as the Exo uttered his last words. Her partner was already knelt at his side, the cracks in her already weak composure visibly splitting as he - their Vanguard, their mentor, her girlfriend’s best friend - died his final death.

Amara had frivolously begun pleading for him to return, uttering denials that would never be heeded. There was nothing they could do now except comfort each other in mourning. Myss immediately slid in beside her girlfriend and took her into her arms. Amara roughly grabbed whatever pieces of Myss’ jacket she could get a hold of, and wailed. 

Neither of them noticed Petra enter the room until she too knelt beside the body of their friend, a practiced, stern look barely masking the grief she shared with the pair. A blue, lightly illuminated hand was placed on Cayde’s chest, just over the hand he left there.

“I’m… So sorry.” was all the Queenless Queen’s Wrath could muster, meeting Myss’ glowing, grief-swollen eyes for a moment, before she shook her head, stood, and left the room. Whether she was apologizing to the pair of mourning Hunters, or to Cayde, Myss couldn’t be certain. 

It was nearly an hour before they gathered the composure necessary to contact the Vanguard.

* * *

 

Returning to the City with Cayde in tow lasted a lifetime. How would the City respond? The Vanguard? The Guardians? The rest of their fellow Hunters? Everyone would mourn, she was certain, but what would be the response after that?

Ikora was angry. Vengeful, even, and rightfully so. Zavala was calm and calculated, processing his grief by putting his position as Commander, his people, first.

Myss fell more on Zavala’s side of the situation. It was irresponsible and reckless to send every single Guardian to tear apart the Reef hunting down a single Awoken target and his Baron lackeys. 

She knew it wasn’t her place, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t want to exact revenge.

Cayde’s death was meant to buy Uldren and the Barons time, to allow them to properly organize whatever scheme they were planning, but… If Uldren thought that his actions would leave them free to roam, he was sorely mistaken. At least a third of all Guardians now placed a large target on the back of the Prince’s head. It wasn’t currently known how many of them would actively seek to hit it, but one who would try her damndest to make sure she would be the one to hit it first was about to make herself known.

“You won’t have to.” Amara spoke up, prompted by the Commander’s refusal to bury any more friends. She stepped forward out of Myss’ arms, wiping the remnants of tears from her cheeks. “Uldren Sov… is  _ mine _ .”

The redhead marched out of the room, all eyes following in surprise for a moment, before Myss quickly retreated behind her. 

Once they were further down the hallway, Myss noticed that Amara wasn’t heading to the exit, down the usual way they went home. She was making her way to the hangar, and panic began to take root in Myss’ chest. She didn’t think Amara would act this soon.

“You can’t do this alone.” Myss called after her girlfriend, reaching for her shoulder.

“I have to.” The redhead said, never missing a beat in her stride towards the hangar. “If Zavala and Ikora aren’t going to do anything,  _ someone _ has to.”

“It’s suicide!” The taller Hunter said with unusual force and frenzy. “You saw who he’s dealing with. He’s got two Kell-sized Fallen on his side, one of which makes zombies out of dead vandals, and there’s six more besides them! Who knows what tricks they have up their sleeves.”

Amara never faltered in her stride. “I don’t care. I  _ have _ to. For Cayde.”

Myss’ hand finally makes purchase on Amara’s shoulder, trying to stop her advance.

“Let go.” The redhead snapped as she glared at her girlfriend, lightly jostling her shoulder to escape from Myss’ grip. “You can’t stop me from going.”

“I know.” She sighed, burying her reaction to Amara’s snap as she placed her other hand on her cheek. “I’m going with you.”

“Oh, Myss...” Amara tutted, shaking her head as she removed Myss’ hands. “Don’t. You don’t have to. You yourself said it’s suicide.”

“I’m not losing you too, ‘Mara.” Myss glared back, a small frown etching its way into her cheeks. “If nothing else, you need someone to watch your back. To make sure you can pull the trigger.”

A moment of silent understanding passed between them, then Amara took Myss’ hand and bolted for the hangar.

* * *

 

A week’s gone by, and they’ve managed to take down two Barons: The Rider and the Trickster, Yaviks and Araskes. The Rider’s toxic fuel still sat heavy in their lungs, and the Trickster’s sick games made them continuously wary of every engram they picked up. 

Otherwise, the other Barons remained elusive, their progress slowed to a crawl, and Myss can’t stop staring at the Watchtower.

As soon as they landed in the Shore and she saw that immense structure in the distance, the Awoken couldn’t keep her mind, or her eyes, off of it. She felt a pull, a draw, to the gorgeous porcelain-like tower. Petra hadn’t told them much - if anything - about the massive building, other than its Queen-ordered sealed state and her theories on the Prince’s endgame plan.

And yet it continued to beckon her.

Myss had felt a pull to return to the Reef since her revival, but it was always quiet enough to ignore. Now that she’s here, the call is deafening, and she found herself staring off in the distance more often than not. She wondered what the structure holds, what secrets and answers it must contain in order for it to have been calling to her. They were here to hunt the Barons, get Uldren, and avenge Cayde, but all she could think about was getting closer to that tower. 

“I shouldn’t be telling you -  _ Guardians _ \- this, but…” Petra had begun, eyes trained on the ground as she composed herself. “My people’s -  _ our _ people’s…” The Queen’s Wrath shot Myss a brief, pointed look, before turning back to Amara. “...greatest secrets lie beyond that Watchtower.”

Myss’ attention hyperfocused on that information as Petra continued debriefing about Uldren and the Barons. Could the other Awoken sense her curiosity and desperation? Was she dropping hints? Whetting her appetite? Luring her into the hunt with the hope of ending up at the tower, and finding what she’d been searching for? She wished she could ask more, but the mission is the focus, and Petra’s known to be very good at withholding sensitive details.

Over all, Myss is distracted by the potentiality within and beyond the tower, while Amara is angry and neck-deep in the hunt.

During the initial part of their mission, small rift forms between the Hunters. Myss is there to watch Amara’s back, but she can barely keep her eyes on Amara for more than five minutes before they take on a thousand-yard stare in the vague direction of the tower. Amara barely seems to notice, as her eyes are always pointed forward, focused on the mission and exacting revenge. Their conversations began to dwindle, they spent most evenings in less-than-comfortable silence, and they often found themselves doing anything but sleeping during the night.

It’s only after the fourth Baron, the Hangman - Reksis Vahn, was defeated that the two begin to open up to each other about their individual struggles with their mission. 

Amara was scared of what this hunt was turning her into. She didn’t like feeling so angry, acting so cold, being so distant from her loved ones. Was this hunt worth it? Would it really make her feel better? Killing Uldren wouldn’t bring Cayde back, which is what she truly wanted, after all. A healthier way of dealing with her grief needed to be found, because the current method was making it harder for her to deal with the loss.

Myss shared her feelings regarding her distraction. This was the closest to her people, to the last place she lived - in her first life - that she’s ever been, and she felt like the Watchtower held answers to hundreds of questions she’d never even thought to ask. She had no idea why the draw was so powerful, why it was consuming ninety-eight percent of her attention, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to rest until she had answers, however she managed to get them.

Amara ensured Myss’ draw to the Tower and her people is valid, despite the taboo of Guardians looking into their past lives. The origin of the Awoken was shrouded in so much mystery that even the most far-fetched theories seemed plausible. Her people have an endless list of never-answered questions that often manifested in wildly varying, vivid, cryptic dreams, which Myss couldn’t even identify with until very recently. 

Myss comforted Amara in her anger and grief, allowing her to let it out, to cry in her arms, to be held, to be loved the way she needed to be loved. In addition, she brought Amara to an isolated corner of the Shore that she had found, a place that she’d be free to scream and curse if she so chose. She did both rather promptly once her chains were let loose.

In the end, they made a comfortable camp in a cave, next to some ancient white statues. Myss had Casper transmat her guitar and began strumming, while Amara joins in with her voice after some coaxing. The pair formed a tune not yet heard by either of their ears, but had been brewing in their hearts during the mission. This didn’t fully close the rift that Cayde’s death and the subsequent hunt had torn between them, but it helped it begin to heal.

The pair began openly communicating again shortly after. Amara regularly pulls Myss out of her reveries, and Myss in turn keeps Amara focused on the greater good of the mission. Together, they managed to take down the next three Barons in a matter of days, and were ready and eager to move on to the Fanatic and Uldren. 

The next day, Petra’s final reconnaissance update made Myss’ breath catch in her throat. Uldren and the Fanatic were already on their way to the Watchtower, and they’d need to move immediately in order to stop the Prince and his last pawn.

* * *

 

They barely had a chance to celebrate the last Baron’s defeat before Petra was eagerly ushering them into the Watchtower.

As they approached, it took every ounce of Myss’ restraint to not stand still and just marvel at the ancient architecture. She’d spent the last week and a half staring at this massive structure from miles away, and now... she was here, standing in front of it - within its vestibule, its foyer. All she wanted to do was explore the building, learn its secrets, discover everything she could. But there would -  _ hopefully _ \- be time for that later.

They had a gun to reclaim first.

As they ascended the first small set of stairs into the grand foyer, intricately carved from an ethereal marble, Myss slowed her pace ever so slightly. She marveled at the dozen or so statues lining the walls, the crystalline glint on the floor, and the glowing threshold ahead. Only Petra’s voice chiming in over the comms was enough to pull her attention.

“Guardians. No one has stood where you are since the Queen closed these doors.” The Queen’s Wrath said gently. Then, after a beat, “Welcome home, cousin.”

Myss stopped dead in her tracks, her free hand flying to cover her mouth in surprise. A small, excited, yet sad whine left her throat, and her eyes began to well. Had Amara heard that, or had Petra said that to her alone?

“Babe? You okay?” She felt a tug at her shoulder… from above? When did she end up on her knees? “C’mon, we gotta go. We’ll come back after.”

She sniffled and returned to her feet, bow nocked and ready. “Right.”

The following events were a blur. They inspected several devices and artifacts along the way, all of which were either impossible or ancient. They traversed the... Ascendant Plane? They fought a haunted, or Taken, or possessed Servitor? It was all so insane and confusing, but now they had a broken and battered Prince Uldren laying at their feet, and Amara had the - equally broken and battered - Ace of Spades in her grasp.

Uldren said that the line between Light and Dark is immensely thin, and asked if they knew which side they were on. Amara scoffed, and dug her heel into the Prince’s chest. 

“Do you?” She retorted.

And fired.

* * *

 

The first thing they did was report in to the Vanguard, to alert them of their progress. Zavala’s opinion was unwavering, but he congratulated them nonetheless. Ikora’s pleased with their progress, and commended them on a job well done. If nothing else, they helped stabilize the Tangled Shore, returning some law to the once lawless frontier.

Once they disconnected from the comms, the Hunters exhaled, and shared a quick kiss - elated that the Hunt was over and Cayde’s killers had faced justice for their numerous crimes. Hopefully they’d be able to return home soon and begin to fully heal from the loss. 

But first…

“Petra.” Myss called as she approached the Queen’s Wrath. She’d already sent the Prince’s body to her ship, and was stood in front of the now-active portal’s control stone. “I have some questions.”

“I know.” Petra said, looking up from the stone. “As do I.” A hand is placed on her hip. “I am… aware of what Guardianship entails. That you would have died and been reborn in the Light, without knowledge of who you were before, in order to be who you are now.” She sighed. “...But I knew you in your first life, as Myss Thyss - Iris Commander.”

Myss inhaled sharply, training her eyes on the floor before she fished her pendant from her breast.

Petra nods, quickly reading the Awoken symbols that bore Myss’ first identity. “I’ve met many a reborn Awoken that took a new name, and was surprised when you introduced yourself with your first name.” A pause. “You were lost at the same time we believed Uldren and… Mara to be lost.” She sighs and, after a beat, places a hand on Myss’ shoulder. “The Light chose well.”

“I like to think so.” Myss chuckled, and managed a weak smile. “But… I have so many questions. About who I was, who I am. The Awoken and their -  _ our _ history. There are thousands of Awoken Guardians that feel like they have no identity… because of how secretive they -  _ we _ are.” She sighed. “I’ve felt drawn to this Tower since we first entered the Shore’s region and, now that I’m here, I have more questions than answers. I feel like I’ve made it but the final door is hidden.”

Petra nodded. “I understand, cousin. Here.” The Queen’s Wrath retrieved a small, broken statue from her pack - one that looked not unlike the statues they had passed on their journey to the top of the Tower. “Repair this talisman, and I’ll answer every question you have. When it is fixed, return here, and I will show you the way.”

Myss nodded in return as she took the small figure. “I’ll be back soon.”

Petra smiled, releasing her hold on Myss. “I look forward to it. Talk to the Spider for your first clue.” In the next moment, Petra returned to her ship.

“Sounds like you’ve got a quest of your own.” Amara called from behind.

“I - Yeah.” Myss responded, holding the talisman to her chest. “This is my key to the answers I’m looking for.”

“Better get to it.”

“Right.” Myss said as she summoned Casper. “You coming?”

Amara thought for a moment, and then shook her head. “No. This is something  _ you _ need to do. It’s  _ your _ people. Besides…” The redhead brandished the Ace of Spades, holding it gingerly in her grip. “I gotta repair her. I don’t know what Uldren did to make her look like such shit, but I need to fix it.”

“Mm.” Myss hummed in agreement. “Banshee will know what to do.”

“Yeah.” Amara smiled, holstering Ace to instead take both of Myss’ hands. “Good luck, babe.”

Myss gave a toothy grin in return, leaning to give her girlfriend a kiss. “Thanks, hon. You too.” She rested her forehead against Amara’s, relaxing her breath. “See you soon.”

“Not soon enough.” Amara squeezes their intertwined hands, and is suddenly gone - transmatted to her ship.

Myss is left alone in the massive Awoken structure, her own journey just beginning.


	2. Waking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2! Myss reaches the City, and I reached deep into Shuro Chi's pilgrimage patrols and the Marasenna lore book for some of the information I used.
> 
> Leave comments/send asks if you enjoy this! Part 3 soon!

Repairing the talisman took Myss an entire week. Deciphering the Spider’s cryptic clues hindered her process immensely. She spent three days just scouting and researching before she discovered where all the old Corsair hideouts were, but at least she was nearly home free once all of the pieces hidden there were found. 

Legend, and record books, stated that the Awoken came to be where Light and Darkness met the moment that the Collapse occurred. Therefore, the Awoken were likely the perfect example of Light and Darkness coexisting harmoniously within a single entity. So, the architecture and design of the Awoken likely reflected that. 

At least, Myss hoped so.

The body of the talisman was made from a white, purified, crystalline, marble-like substance which Myss extrapolated represented the light half of the Awoken. To complete the repair and restore its balance, therefore, it likely needed essences of darkness to seal the bonds. Thankfully, the Taken seemed to have just what she needed, as the Talisman began to emit a soft, ethereal glow after a day’s worth hunting them.

She then returned to the Spider, who confirmed her suspicions, and ordered his best - Arrha and Avrok - to escort her back to the Watchtower, wishing her well in her journey home.

_ Home _ … Petra had also welcomed her home. 

Something deep in Myss  swelled at the thought.

A short trip later, they were back in the room where they had defeated the Chimera, where Uldren had met his end, and the last place she’d seen Petra and Amara. She missed the latter, as they hadn’t spoken since they parted, but hopefully she’d be seeing the former momentarily.

The Awoken held her breath, and the Talisman tight against her chest. She faced Spider’s chosen escorts to thank them for all their help, and turned towards the portal as the activation stone beckoned her.

_ [Ready?]  _ Casper asked softly when he was summoned, cocking his shell in comfort. _ [Your heart’s racing.] _

“I’m as… ready as I’ll ever be, Cas.” Myss responded, eyes briefly meeting his single optic before they returned to the immense glowing ring. “My… soul wants this. Maybe it’s not my soul, but… There’s something in me that’s gonna take me through that portal whether my mind wants me to or not.”

Casper slowly spun his shell, the gold and violet reflecting the ageless green aura of the portal.  _ [I hope we find whatever your soul is looking for.] _

Myss didn’t respond, silently accepting his well-wishes, and released her Ghost to the activation stone. As he worked, she stepped towards the portal, and waited. 

The soft glow of the outer frame slowly brightened as Casper activated the portal, and as the rings within the starry center pulsed and spun faster, her heart matched their pace. 

Once Casper returned to her, she inhaled, and hopped through the gate.

* * *

 

When her vision returns to her, she’s standing on the rocky edge of a misty shore, surrounded by nothing but fog. She can faintly make out the silhouette of a building in the distance, with windows glowing like those in the Watchtower, and another further away that looked exactly like it.

She exhales. 

She’s made it.

“I’m here…” She says in stupefied awe, the aura of the locale swaddling her like a blanket. Not unlike what she felt the last time she attempted to return to the Reef but, this time, she’s not turning back.

_ [You’re crying.]  _ Casper says, appearing in front of her, spinning his shell curiously.  _ [You gonna be okay?] _

“Mm-hmm.” Myss nods. She can feel her large grin wobble as she wipes her eyes with the heels of her palms. She didn’t even realize she started crying. “I’m just…” She chuckles weakly. “I’m not dreaming, am I?”

_ [Well, we are in the Dreaming City...]  _ The Ghost says, a hint of a smile in his voice at the attempt at humour.  _ [You’re awake.] _

“Awoken.” She corrects, chuckling.

Casper rolls his optic, but the bounce in his float tells her he enjoyed it.  _ [Try not to pass out.] _

“I’ll do my best.” Myss takes a breath and, after a moment, takes a step forward on the stone path. Then another, and another. Slowly, she makes her way up the shoreline. As she approaches a hill that the path led her to, an attempt to get to high ground and find her way to Petra, Casper chimes in quietly.

_ [There’s something… odd about this place.]  _ He says, and she could tell he was looking around.  _ [There’s Light here, but also… Darkness.]  _ A pause.  _ [ _ You’re _ Awoken, Myss. Do you sense anything?] _

Myss ponders for a moment, slowing her pace to search her emotions, her senses. She closes her eyes, inhales, and opens them again. “It feels…” She began, releasing the breath she held. “Like there’s pressure. Like something’s waiting for the right moment to make its move. And…” Her eyes scan the horizon. “The energy feels tainted now. Like... slightly sour milk.”

She could feel Casper’s confusion, but Petra’s ship flying overhead interrupted any questions he could have asked. _ [There! Petra’s ship! Follow her!] _

Myss didn’t have to be told twice. She picks up the pace and jogs along the path, hopping over any breaks in the rock. Soon they reached an island with the first signs of Awoken architecture, with three floating women gathered in front of one of the monuments. She hadn’t realized there would be anyone but Petra here yet and, wanting to make a good impression, put on her best smile. Once she moved to land on the rock, the women all turned to her simultaneously, and she was suddenly back in the Ascendant Plane.

“Aw, fuck.” 

_ [You were right.] _

“Wish I wasn’t...” Myss sighs, readying her bow.

Once she’s cleared the island, she approaches the large blight ball and peers over the edge. Usually beating one of the big Taken guys would unlock a door back to reality, but none of the ones she faced seemed to hold the key. 

**YOU!**

Myss jumps, turning to the source of the voice. A shifty, floating white light.

**Why would you come here? There is no place less suited for the likes of you, walking in the dreamland of your enemies.**

She has a strange feeling that answering this apparition wouldn’t help her, but she follows it. 

**And what, am I to be your Virgil? A guide, a shepherd?** It chuckles.  **No, no, no…**

Myss follows onto the surfaces the light travels to.

**There are no guides here! It is a place of scheming queens and traps unsprung.**

Wait, was Casper marking this voice? Was it in the Vanguard database? Toland… She’d heard of him. A Warlock… Shattered… trapped in the Ascendant Realm. Obsessed with the Hive. Threw a fit when the Guardians that defeated Oryx didn’t replace him.  _ Great _ . She rolls her eyes as he continues.

**“The dreary plain, forlorn and wild, the seat of desolation, void of light!”** He laughs.  **You walk blind above an abyss, full of trust for a friendly voice.**

_ You’re just my best idea for getting out of here, Hive-fetish guy.  _ She thinks to herself and Casper, who stifles a snicker.

**You’re playing right into her hands.**

She almost reflexively asks who he’s referring to. The Queen? Petra?

**Leave the Dreaming City while you can, dear squanderer** **_._ **

Myss hops over the last gap, and is finally back in her home plane. On the bridge ahead, she’s welcomed by Hive and Taken opening fire at her. She clears them out swiftly, and crosses through an elevated hole in the wall - in lieu of the locked door - into the next area, which is also infested with Taken. This enclosure seems like it could be part of a museum, with models of planets - including one with two rings - on pedestals, and the entire room looked like it was carved from a massive blue geode. It’s very hard to not get distracted, especially with d éjà vécu constantly playing at the fringes of her mind, but she presses forward nonetheless.

Eventually she reaches the island wherein Petra landed her ship, and fights off the final wave of Taken blocking her way to the Queen’s Wrath. It’s only when the last Thrall is dead that she realizes what the building she’s about to enter is. This is the building she spotted when she landed, the one with the windows like the Watchtower. Inhaling, Myss opens the door, and is greeted by a…  _ very _ large purple orrery-like machine. On the ground at the base of this immense contraption, Petra is standing beside a stone - similar to the one that activated the portal in the Watchtower - that likely controlled it. The Queen’s Wrath turns to face the doorway, and smiles when she recognizes the hooded Awoken.

“Cousin!” Petra greets Myss with a wide smile. “You made it!”

Myss’ heart swells at the use of the familial title, and she can’t hold back her own grin. “Hey, Petra. What’s going on?”

Petra’s quickly turned back to the control stone, explaining what she can. “I know what happened to Uldren. I’ve seen the evil that we face. I have to tell the Queen, or we are lost.”

_ The Queen? Isn’t she dead? _

The other Awoken steps away from the control stone, and the machine hums to life. “There. Watch this.” She encourages, and Myss’ eyes move to watch whatever was about to happen. “Mara Sov! My Queen. Are you there? Can you hear me?” Petra calls, but no answer comes.

Myss’ attention silently darts between the giant machine and Petra.

“Damn it! Calibration looks good. Signal is strong. And the Offering…” Petra pauses, eyebrows knitting together. “Wait. The Offering is missing.”

“The Offering?” Myss asks quietly, leaning towards Petra.

“This is an Oracle.” Petra answers, gesturing towards the machine in question. “It can do nothing without an Offering. Maybe I can override it somehow…” She moves back to the control stone, fiddling with commands Myss didn’t recognize.

“I can look around.” Myss offers. “Maybe someone misplaced it.”

“Unlikely, but alright.” Petra responded, eyes never leaving the stone. 

“Or maybe it was stolen.” Myss ponders as she leaves the building and, shortly after, is greeted by a herd of suicidal Screeb charging in her direction. On the next island she can see several more Scorn, and readies for a fight. She fires an arrow into one of the Screeb’s swollen backs, and watches as the rest explode behind it.

_ [Spider did say Scorn were flowing in…] _ Casper says, and Myss could feel him shrug.

“How much glimmer do you want to bet on one of these guys having the Offering?” Myss quips as an arrow is released into a Stalker’s head, who then disintegrates with a burst of void energy.

_ [Everything we have.]  _ Her Ghost responds.  _ [The odds are good.] _

It’s a difficult fight, but Myss eventually takes them all down, and ends up finding a small glowing crystal on one of their bodies. She summons Casper and, like the geode in the Watchtower, cannot confirm the shard’s origin or its full composition. The mysterious nature leads the pair to believe that this is likely what Petra was looking for.

“Watch,” Myss chuckles, fiddling with the crystal. “she’s going to take one look at it and ask us why we just picked up a rock from the ground.” The  _ Offering _ glowed almost like a black light would, where it would only show its true nature while in the dark, or would expose the true form of other things under the cover of night. She doesn’t notice how it makes the marking on her forehead illuminate when it comes in proximity.

_ [I hope not.] _ Casper replies, spinning his shell.  _ [We’ll look like idiots.] _

They return to the room which held the Oracle, and found that Petra had moved to a higher platform. Myss climbs the stairs, still fiddling with the crystal. 

“We  _ think _ we found the Offering, Petra.” Myss says as she reaches the top of the stairs, entering the balcony on which the Queen’s Wrath now stood. “A Scorn Chieftain had this.” She hands over the crystal, which Petra examines for a moment.

“I should’ve known - vengeful thieves.” Petra frowns, but nods once and hands the crystal back to Myss. “This will work, place it on the stone’s screen.”

As Myss does, the lazily spinning Oracle suddenly halts, and rearranges itself like the portal in the Watchtower, its large set of rings facing where the pair now stood. After a moment, white lines that flowed like Arc energy form spiderweb patterns on the Oracle’s face, and a voice - she thinks - emanates from the machine.

**Petra Venj** **_._ **

Petra kneels, and Myss feels compelled to as well.

“Mara! You’re - alive!” The Queen’s Wrath sighs. “I’m so - I mean - ” She composes herself. “My Queen.”

**And I see you’ve found our Iris Commander.**

Myss’ eyes widen, looking up from the floor. Surely the Queen must be able to tell... She’s not sure if she should, but she feels like she should respond.

Petra cuts her off before she has the chance to say anything. “Your Grace, I have news.” She inhales, readying herself for her Queen’s reaction. “Your brother, Prince Uldren is--”

**Dead. I know** **_._ **

Petra exhales, relieved. “Of course.” She straightens. “He - his soul was corrupted by the Taken. He suffered from delusions, which I now believe were caused by--”

**Riven.**

_ Riven? What… or who… is Riven?  _ Could that be the pressure she felt?

Petra sighs again. “Yes, m’lady. She, too, has been Taken, as have Kalli, Shuro, and Sedia.”

**So many loved ones turned against us…**

The Queen’s Wrath’s demeanor softens even more, her expression transforming into one of desperation. “Tell me what to do my lady.” Her voice lowers to be barely above a whisper. “…Please.”

After a moment, the Oracle responds.

**Assemble a team, Petra. Send them into the heart of the city. Kill that creature and extract its heart. I offer the riches of our realm as bounty. Open the gates, and let the Guardians in.**

Myss smirks lightly. One was already here.

After a pause, Petra nods. 

**I must go. The battle rages on. If you have news, send it. I will answer as I am able.** The Queen’s voice softens. **Stay strong, my Wrath. I believe in you.**

Petra performs a salute and stands, the Oracle returning to its lazy orbit as the Queen disconnects. 

“I can’t believe it...” Myss says as she rises to her feet, looking towards Petra. “You were right.”

Petra’s wearing a large smile, hands resting proudly on her hips. “Yes. Mara Sov, Queen of the Awoken… lives!” She turns towards Myss, and her face falls slightly. “You’re crying, Myss.”

“Huh?” Myss touches her cheek, blinking in confusion before wiping her eyes. “I’m not sure… This is all so overwhelming.”

“Undoubtedly.” Petra nods. “I didn’t expect her to recognize you, and I doubt you did either.”

Myss shakes her head, taking a weak breath that quickly turned into a sigh. Her composure was crumbling quicker with every second that passed. 

Petra walks forward, and places a gentle blue hand on Myss’ shoulder. “Meet me in The Strand when you can. I told you I’d answer your questions, but here is not the place. I’ll send the coordinates to your Ghost.”

A moment later, Myss is left alone again in the giant room housing the Oracle. The weight of everything falls hard on her shoulders, and she falls to her knees as she shatters.

_ [Myss?]  _ Casper says, revealing himself to scan his Guardian, looking for signs of distress.

She balls her fists, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes as fresh tears flow from her eyes. The only sounds in the building were of the light groan of the Oracle, and Myss’  quiet whimpers.

_ [Overwhelmed?] _ Her Ghost asks, dipping down to hopefully eventually meet her eyes. 

Myss nods violently, choking on her sobs. 

_ [Good overwhelmed or bad overwhelmed?] _

Myss releases a single finger from her fist.

_ [Want to explore or see Petra first?] _

She adds an extra finger, holding up two this time.

_ [Okay.] _ Casper sounds relieved.  _ [Need a minute?] _

Myss nods again.

_ [Take your time. I’ve marked the path. We’ll go when you’re ready.] _

As Casper disappears she lifts her head, with wide eyes and a wobbly smile, to look at the Oracle. Questions flood her mind. She has ten times the amount now than she had than when she crossed through the portal, but she can’t currently articulate any of them. Her brain is overloaded, simultaneously on fire and frozen.

In the span of two weeks, she’s gone from contented acceptance of her plight as an Awoken Guardian, to desperately yearning for answers, to having more questions than she knows what to do with. Her world, her understanding, her beliefs have been rocked, shaken to their core.

Though now she has the opportunity to have every question she could ever have answered, to build a new world, find new understanding, solidify her beliefs.

After several moments and a deep breath, she stands and makes her way in the direction Casper said to go. Though once she’s past the island where she fought the Scorn for the Offering, her trek begins to feel familiar. Familiar in the sense that she already knew the correct path to take. Casper had marked a path through a cave to her left, though she knew that walking along the shallow path and past the ornate antenna would be a much quicker trip to Petra.

“Casper?” Myss began. “Did you mark the direct route or the scenic route?”

_ [That’s the way my sensors are saying to go.]  _ Casper responds confidently.  _ [Why?] _

“...No reason.” Myss’ eyes scan the cliffside, locking for a moment on the large blue archway at the crest of the hill, and then focus on the wide cave on its right side. She makes her way towards this cave, the opposite direction that Casper was telling her to go. 

Casper remains silent, observing his Guardian’s behaviour. Her physical well-being wasn’t his current concern. He could still feel the Light, so she could be brought back if anything happened, but her mental state was more worrying. Misty, horizon-less places didn’t often bode well for curious or lost individuals.

Regardless of her Ghost’s reservations, Myss confidently moves in the direction she believes The Strand is. She walks over the rocky shore, deep into the wide cave and through another geode cave, which led into an intricate hall that opened to another shore. As she exits the hall, directly in front of her is a large statue of an Awoken woman, with what looked like a miniature version of the Oracle on its shore. The Watchtower’s twin is off in the distance, but she can see an ornate bridge leading to it now. Finally, down and to the right of the tower and the statue, there’s a large gazebo enveloped in the mist, and Petra’s ship is parked atop the structure.

Myss’ stride is never broken as she follows the path towards the marble gazebo, and her fingers brush over several purple trees - that moments before appeared as glittering clouds - along the way. Before long, she comes to the marble bridge connecting the mainland to the island that held the gazebo, and begins smelling something… fragrant. The entire place smelled of something familiar, something comforting, but this aroma was more like the one surrounding the Oracle Engine. She climbs the stairs, and finds Petra sitting on one of the benches, beneath another statue of an Awoken woman.

Petra smiles in her direction, and pats the empty space across from her. In between the two seats rests what Myss can only recognize as a tea set, an extremely ornate one at that, and assumes was the source of the fragrance she detected on the way over.

As Myss sits, Petra gestures to the pink flowers that surrounded the gazebo. 

“Asphodelia.” Petra begins. “It originally grew in the Black Garden on Mars, a place of constant death and Darkness. Prince Uldren was the first to bring them back to our people and, over time, they lost their rich red colour.” She picks up the pot, and pours a small cup of rosy tea for the both of them. 

“It’s taboo to pick the flowers for any reason other than to mourn a death or celebrate a birth. The thorns, if pricked by them, can cause paranoia and madness.” A cup is handed to Myss. “But the petals, if steeped, can bring peace and enlightenment to Awoken individuals.

“We have two deaths and one birth to make picking the flowers and this tea worthy. Prince Uldren,” Petra pauses, gauging Myss’ reaction. “And you.”

Myss cocks a brow briefly, but understands just as Petra explains.

“Your first death after the Battle of Saturn, and your rebirth in the Light.” A pause. “Two births if we count your return here, metaphorically of course.”

Myss lowers her head and focuses on the swirling pink tea in the marble teacup, and sees her glowing eyes reflecting in it. On the edge of her vision, she can see Petra reach her own cup in to tap its edge against Myss’.

“You could use some peace, I think.” Petra says, a gentle prompt to encourage Myss. “This will help.”

Myss nods, but hesitates. “Isn’t there…” She doesn’t want to ask this, for fear of losing her opportunity at answers, but after the Queen’s orders…  “…more pressing things going on that you should be worried about?”

Petra stops the teacup just before it reaches her lips. “There are.” She confirms. “But... I promised I’d answer your questions. I’ve already sent out a message to the Corsairs, those that remain, at least, and a bulletin to any Guardian networks I used before the Red War, if they were still operating.” She pauses. “It will take a while for any useful amount of troops to rally here, or for a concise plan to be put in place...” The cup is raised to her lips again. “Until then, I have time to talk.”

A small smile creeps onto Myss’ face. She’s glad that her yearning isn’t currently a burden. Her own cup is lifted to her mouth, and the fragrance alone begins to soothe her knotted nerves. As she takes her first sip of Asphodelia tea, calm quickly rolls over her like gentle waves upon a lake’s shore, bathing her in a comforting warmth. Many would describe a similar feeling as inebriation, but her mind became clearer than freshly polished glass, rather than fuzzy like alcohol or other substances would induce. She could now clearly articulate nearly every question she had, so she asked them all.

Over the course of the next few days, Myss learns about the origin of her people by way of the real legends that Reefborn - or Distributaryborn, or the original Forty Thousand - Awoken would have passed down to their children, rather than those in the wildly varying record books among the Cryptarch’s libraries. 

She learned of the past wars her people had faced, including the ones she had fought in herself. 

She learned that she was among the first Reefborn, brought into existence just after her people left the Distributary for good. Her parents were part of the thirty percent that elected to stay in the Reef with Mara, rather than return to their ancestors on Earth. 

She learned about the Techeuns, the women she had seen on her way into the City, and how they too had become victims in this conflict, and were the only three that existed or would ever exist from now on. 

She learned that this City was not the only Awoken City, but that this one was special due to the immense number of Awoken secrets it held, and the cosmic nature of the activities it was built for. 

She learned of Riven, and of the countless other Ahamkara that helped carve this City from nothingness, who took refuge here during the Great Hunt, who betrayed the people who sheltered them. 

She learned why Uldren was driven to madness, to extremes, to murder. 

She learned why her people were now shattered and scattered throughout the Reef. 

She learned of the dire state the Awoken were in. 

She learned of how close they were to extinction.

She asked how she could help, and Petra began hatching a plan.

By the time the first of the Corsairs arrived, the two Awoken had already solidified their strategy.

All it would take was five more willing Guardians, and an opportunity.


	3. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls are reunited, catching up, and getting ready for the big battle

Within the first week of Myss’ arrival to the Dreaming City, dozens of Corsairs had answered Petra’s call and set up patrol schedules, outposts, and communication networks. They had the entire city under their watchful eye, and there were no goings-on that they did not know of.

Unfortunately, dozens of Corsairs were not enough to fully lock down the city or begin the assault on its heart, especially with their mortality as their biggest weakness. They’d already lost a good handful within that initial week, taken aback by the combined force that were the Hive, Taken, and Scorn, and they couldn’t afford to lose many more.

So, when the first Guardians began to arrive, all heaved a sigh of relief. The city was sure to be reclaimed soon with the immortal legion protecting its shores.

They came sporadically, the first being fellow Awoken Guardians, most of whom had been around since well before the assault on Crota, that still tapped into Petra’s old bounty network every once in a while. Some came with their fireteams, others alone - whose teams either wouldn’t come or were urged to go alone to find answers - like Myss had. They were the first to hear the call and give in to the desire to visit their homeland, learn about their culture and, hopefully, save their people’s most sacred place. A long-missed Bun Squad were among these first arrivals.

The next batch were miscellaneous veterans who had given their all in the Taken War, and spent most of their free hours on the Dreadnaught. Even half of the team that had defeated Oryx showed up, eager to aid in the cleansing of the Taken scourge on the Reef - and in the system - once and for all.

The most recent batch were mostly kinderguardians like Myss, rezzed between the Taken War and Rasputin’s awakening, who were looking for a unique adventure and danger, eager to get their feet wet in a big, historic battle so early in life. There were a few curious veterans who had heard the gossip and wanted to see for themselves, but the majority were newbies.

She wondered how the Vanguard were dealing with the sudden absence of Guardians, and pondered if they even knew, if they had tapped into the underground networks and heard Petra’s call. She had thought that maybe Zavala, as a fellow Awoken, would have sent his regards even if he couldn’t leave his post, but no word ever came.

From her perch atop the mountain in the Divalian Mists, Myss had watched the newest wave of ships arrive for the past few days, many of whom immediately rush into the Blind Well’s large blue archway in the opposite cliff’s face, others who come to inspect the wailing warding spire in front of the Corsair station below, and those who ignore the scenery entirely and immediately book it to Petra’s chosen overlook that day.

Summoned away for a patrol, an inspection in the Confluence, she hadn’t been on her perch to spot an unfamiliar ship deposit a familiar red-haired Guardian at the edge of the Mists.

Amara had heard the gossip, and then tuned into Petra’s call. Immediately she knew that this was where Myss had gone to find answers, this mysterious city that suddenly appeared on everyone’s maps - if they looked hard enough for it. As soon as Iris locked onto the signal, she holstered a newly-repaired Ace and made haste to those coordinates.

Once she returned to the Reef, she both was and wasn’t surprised to find that the ring of debris adjacent to the Watchtower was the doorway. She was slightly hesitant - she’d never flown through a portal before - but continued, and was enthralled by the view the flight offered. It was almost like she was flying over the shallow shores of a beach, the clouds below rippling like sand, and the glittering so as to add that other-worldly, fantastical touch. The Watchtower’s twin, perched on a grassy plateau and surrounded by smaller buildings, soon came into view, and she landed on the shores of what was marked as the Divalian Mists.

There was no one there to greet her, other than the clearly-marked transmat zone, and a few corsairs off in the distance. Left to her own devices, and on the encouragement of Iris, she follows her eyes to the most curious and shiny things she can see. After several - lost - hours of exploration led by her curious eyes, she winds up in an old Monastery, staring up at a large statue of a woman - like the many she’d seen on her way. This one wasn’t as big as others she’d seen, but for it to be alone on its own balcony must have meant it was special.

In her enrapture, she doesn’t hear the large stone elevator engage behind her, too focused on the view. This balcony also offered an excellent view of the Watchtower’s twin, and the city that hid behind the walls.

Myss had finished up her patrol of the Confluence - nothing special there, not even the queensfoil exposed anything - and decided to exit towards Rheasilvia, as she didn’t often go to that slice of the City. As she ascends the stairs around the outside of the room, she’s surprised to see a Guardian down here, admiring the architecture and the view. She’s about to call out to them - ask them if they’re lost, if they need a guide back to Petra - when she realizes who it is that found their way down here.

It takes one-hundred and ten percent of her control to not scream, giggle, or run up to her girlfriend in joy. Myss manages to compose herself and slowly, silently approaches, waiting until she’s in earshot to pounce.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Myss calls out, eyeing her girlfriend’s shoulders as they jump a little in surprise, but her eyes never leave the horizon.

“Yeah…” Amara says, just loud enough for Myss to hear. “It really is.”

“Although…” Myss begins after a moment, smirk settling into her voice. “It’s not half as beautiful as you.”

“Excuse--” Amara begins, snapping out of her reverie by the blatant, unwarranted flirting of a stranger. She turns towards the voice and - at the sight of her girlfriend smiling back at her - all accusations catch in her throat as she lunges towards her. “Myss!”

Myss drops her bow, opening her arms to Amara’s embrace, and turns the momentum of her lunge into a graceful spin. Their arms wrap tight around each other and they hold for a moment, relishing the feeling of being reunited. Eventually, they turn their heads to meet each other’s eyes, and Myss gently brushes Amara’s lengthy bangs off of her face, clearing the way for her lips to meet Amara’s forehead. Amara, on the other hand, goes directly for Myss’ lips by pulling her girlfriend’s face to her own.

“Missed you.” Myss says quietly when they part.

“Missed you, too.” Amara agrees, wrapping her arms around Myss’ waist, snuggling into her chest. “You feeling better?”

“A lot better.” Myss says, laying her cheek on the top of Amara’s head.

“I can tell.” Amara responds.

“You too.” Myss notes, vaguely gesturing down to Amara’s right thigh. “Ace doing better?”

“All fixed.” A pause, Amara’s voice taking a sad tone. “Banshee forgot he’s gone.”

Myss inhaled a deep, pensive sigh. “Maybe it’s better like that. Poor guy.”

“Mmm.” Amara places her hands on Myss’ chest, pushing herself away to look up at her girlfriend. “So! What have you been up to? Your eyes look darker...” She squints, smacking her lips. “...And bloodshot and... Your lips tasted like metal.”

“There’s been... a _lot_.” Myss grimaces, procuring a blue bottle. Within it was swirling, metallic, inky liquid. “Queensfoil. Lets me see things that don’t exist in this plane. See…” She turns her head, releasing Amara, and jumps over the railing of the platform.

Amara reaches instinctively, trying to stop Myss from killing herself, but is surprised when she finds invisible footing instead of falling three hundred feet to the rocks below.

“It’s weird,” Myss places her hands on her hips, looking down at the platform she stood on - likely an old chunk of a bridge. “…but it’s useful for what’s going on here.”

“...Sure, babe. Whatever you say.” Amara does a double take, unsure of the vision-inducing substance that prevented her girlfriend from falling to her death. “Now get down from… there, you’re freaking me out.”

Myss diligently returns to solid ground - for both of them - and retrieves her bow, looking Amara up and down. “‘Mara… What are you wearing?”

“This?” She gestures to her chestpiece. “It’s an old model they brought back. Apparently this was popular around the time we took Vog.” She cocks her head. “Why?”

“You’ve got bullets strapped to your tits, babe.” Myss giggles. “And it’s not like it’s useful either, it’s just. Four high-cal bullets. Strapped to your boobs.”

“... And?”

Myss presses her lips into a thin line. “I wouldn’t have chosen it.” She shrugs. “Badass, sure. Bullets are badass. But they like… look like nipples based on where they’re placed.” Her hands are raised in resignation.

Amara lifts an eyebrow. “And what about you, miss _I don’t know what these shoulder spikes are for_?”

“They’re an old Awoken armor style! For embellishment!” Myss defends. “The pants have the same thing on the knees! I just like my Rigs.”

Amara shrugs. “Seems excessive. Unnecessary. What’s the point?”

Myss sighs. “Okay, I get it, smartass.” She chuckles. “Those baggy pants, though…”

“They’re comfy!”

“I bet they are. I’m jealous. Leather and straps get annoying after a while.”

“Agreed.” Amara says, taking Myss’ hand. “So, you said there’s been a lot going on.” She pulls her girlfriend towards the large circular staircase. “Why don’t you tell me everything on our way to Petra?”

Myss enthusiastically obliges. She tells Amara about the Queen, about the history of this city, of the creature - the Akamkara - that helped build it, that resides within the Watchtower’s twin. She explains that Riven had been Taken, and how the Dreaming City’s future - and the future of her people - rests on the death of this Ahamkara, and the cleansing of her heart. There was to be a proper Raid on the Keep of Voices, to slay a dragon, and Myss would be the one to lead the charge.

Amara wanted to be the second, and it wasn’t hard to find four more willing Guardians to complete the team.

They consulted Petra’s knowledge of Riven and the Keep, using the Corsair scout reports to determine if there was anything especially unusual going on. Petra insisted that the team needed to keep the two Taken Techeuns trapped there alive, as they would be the ones to cleanse Riven’s heart. One was a master of combat, the other a master of song, and their mastery could kill if they were not careful. The Vault’s mechanism was a complicated lock, but one that they’d be able to crack without much trouble - if they were fast.

Riven herself was a different story. As an Ahamkara, she would be trying her hardest to seduce each one of the team members, every step of the way. There was a reason her title was “Riven of a Thousand Voices” - she could tap into the minds of each individual and pull out the voices most comforting, tempting, to them. They would need to resist every attempt, to not be seduced, lest they be lost. If they could survive that, then they had a shot at beating her. Petra told them what she knew, but there was no way to be sure that Riven would keep the same appearance. Hopefully her weaknesses would remain static if she did.

The night before their chosen day of the Raid, the two Hunters are sitting in the resting quarters of Amara’s ship, idly poring over the notes they’d taken during Petra’s long debriefing. It was a lot to remember, but none of it was impossible - even if it seemed like it was too big of a mission for them to handle. They’d be able to do it. They would succeed, and cleanse Riven of her cursed heart. The lines on the paper start to blur into one big gray blob, and Myss’ eyes begin to droop.

“‘Myss, babe.” Amara calls in a voice just above a whisper from the bunk across the laneway. “You’ve read those a thousand times. Go to sleep.”

“But…” Myss protests, wiping at and blinking her eyes. “I need to know this off by heart.”

“You do.” Amara insists, standing to cross the gap.

“What if--”

Amara cuts off her protests with a finger to Myss’ lips. “Shh. You need _sleep_. Sleep is just as important.”

“I could just--” Myss imitates raising a hand cannon to her head and pulling the trigger. “An’ with a little rez from Cas, I’m all rested, good as new.”

 _[Please don’t.]_ Casper says from the cockpit. _[Organic sleep is much more effective than rebuilding you.]_

Amara raises a cocky brow, pleased that she was proven right. She grabs Myss’ face, and squishes her cheeks so her lips pucker, and kisses her. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to take a deeper, more intimate turn, and Amara pulls away after a few moments.

“You know I could…” Amara winks. “ _Help_ tire you out.” She shrugs, lifting her chin to look down her nose at Myss. “We could both use a good night’s sleep, I think.”

Myss’ cheeks flare up, and she shakes her head and giggles as she looks towards the ground, the insinuation not lost on her. “Babe…”

“Don’t have to.” Amara quickly defends. “Just thought it could help.” She returns to her bunk across the gap. “I know how tough it can be for you to get a proper sleep. You could use it before we have to literally slay a dragon.”

“I still can’t believe we’re actually going to kill an Ahamkara… The _last known_ Ahamkara.” Myss says, eyes returning to her notes. “Shaxx used to talk about the hunt, constantly gesturing to the skull that hangs over his office.” She sighs. “We all thought they were dead, slain, that the Guardians before us made sure of that… and yet… The Awoken were hiding one the whole time.”

“Do you think Riven’s as big as the one Shaxx defeated?” Amara says, eyes staring at nothing as she imagined the skull. “That’s a pretty big dragon.”

“I don’t know.” Myss shrugs. “There are a few other skulls laying around the City, and there’s bones on some armor that Guardians wear… all pointing to that one Shaxx has being one of the biggest.”

“Don’t they grow in size based on the number of people they deceive?”

“They do.” Myss confirms. “But, from what Petra says, Queen Mara was never able to be tricked by Riven because she never wanted.” She looks up, staring at the ceiling in thought. “I think… she was treated more like a pet, a companion, than a creature to be feared for her trickery.”

“Well…” Amara says, closing her notes. “Let’s hope that rings true. I can’t imagine fighting a dragon as big as the one Shaxx took down.”

“Me either.” Myss says with a yawn. “I guess we’ll see tomorrow.”

“Yeah, we will. Get some sleep, Myssie.” Amara orders, tucking herself in.

Myss rolls her eyes with a smirk, but ends up falling asleep within the hour.


	4. One Last Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> super overdue raid lmao
> 
> have fun it's a fucking lot

_[The Dreaming City housed one of the Awoken’s most closely guarded secrets.]_ Petra began, the fireteam listening intently as they approached the City. _[She is known as Riven. Riven of a Thousand Voices. The last known Ahamkara. She has been Taken. And her death is your calling.]_

“Approaching the Mists now.” Myss announces. “Prepare for transmat, everyone.”

“Roger.” Comes Amara’s voice, followed by the others giving similar affirmatives.

_[Good luck, Guardians. Cousins. A successful hunt to you all. See you on the other side.]_

Petra closed the comm link, and the team - three Hunters, two Warlocks, and a Titan - were deposited on the bright azure walkway that led to the Blind Well, the usually-open ornate door blocking their path. Each of them had walked this way many times in the past week, and all side-eyed each other at the closed door.

They’d each been briefed on what to expect - to the best of Petra’s knowledge, anyway: two Taken Techeuns, both of whose defenses they’d need to lower one way or another; a large but as of yet unknown Taken presence blocking the door to the Keep of Voices, a Vault that would need cracking and, finally, Riven.

The door to the Blind Well opened as they approached, as if the City was inviting them in. However, the usual way to the Well was obstructed by a large, impenetrable wall of Taken… something.

“What the hell?” Myss heard one of the Warlocks whisper to another Guardian as they entered.

“Here I was hoping we’d get to see what was behind the Well’s huge door.”

“Yeah. Guess not thou--”

**YOU ARE FINALLY HERE.**

A voice filled their heads. Everyone raises their guns and point in random directions, but find no one except for themselves.

“Uldren?! You’re dead!”

“Commander?”

“Asher Mir?! How the hell--”

Each member utters the name of who they heard, or gasps, none of them hearing the same voice as another.

**BROTHER SLAYER. SPAWN KILLER. ALL THAT STRENGTH AND YOU ARE STILL NOTHING BUT A RETAINER TO THE AWOKEN QUEEN.**

“No...” Myss mutters, eyes travelling up to the ceiling. She’d connected the dots after Queen Mara’s voice uttered that last very self-deprecating comment. Rightly so, she assumed the Queen would not speak of herself in such a manner. So she concludes that the speaker must be “ _Riven_.”

Everyone’s eyes turn to Myss as the voice in their head continues.

**YOU COULD BE SO MUCH MORE… ALL YOU NEED DO IS WISH IT.**

The team all scrunched their faces at that comment, recognizing the obvious temptation.

**COME. I WOULD QUITE LIKE TO MEET YOU.**

A stony creaking comes from their left as a small panel opens up in the wall of the foyer, inviting them further into the building via a secret passage.

Myss shrugs, eyeing her team. “Alright, everyone. Into the hole. Floaters first.”  

The Warlocks and Titan follow her orders, as does the other Hunter soon after. Amara, however, hasn’t moved from her spot, a hand held hovering an inch away from her helmet.

“‘Mara?” Myss says, placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. “Everything okay?”

“Six…” Amara mumbles, her own hand making contact with her helm over her mouth. It sounded like she was starting to try to hold back sobs. “I heard Cayde. She used _Cayde_. How…?”

Myss grinds her teeth, squinting at nothing. “She’s clever. Using whatever she can to manipulate us.” She sighs.

“If she… If she keeps using his voice…” Amara growls. “I don’t know if…”

“You _can_.” Myss interrupts “The benefit here is that we know he’s dead. Just like how someone heard Uldren. We know it’s not them. We know it’s Riven trying to get us to make a wish.” The Awoken takes her girlfriend’s head in her hands. “Don’t forget. Don’t listen to her. We’ll just make her stronger.”

After a brief moment collecting and reassuring herself, Amara nods. She stands on her toes, knocking her helm against Myss’ before making her way to the opening in the wall.

It’s not long before the group find their way through the geode-lined passageway into the Tower of Opened Eyes, and in front of another massive door. The entire team flinches when Riven suddenly speaks again.

**HAVE YOU COME TO FREE THE WITCHES? THEY WILL RESIST. DARKNESS IS THEIR SHAPE NOW.**

They all trepidatiously look over the cliff edge into the Blind Well-like room before them, and the Titan points out the floating shielded Techeun waiting in the center of the room, in a large pit surrounded by dozens of small stained glass-windowed doors.

“Kalli…” One of the Warlocks whispered in awe.

“I didn’t think…” The third Hunter said. “She looks less like a Thrall, or that armor we used to have… than I thought she would.”

“She’s still Taken.” Myss reminds them as hops down from the cliff to stand on the edge of the pit’s ring.

She quickly examines her surroundings and, using the clues that Petra had given them, determined a course of action. “Too much Darkness in an Awoken can do serious damage. Let’s cleanse it, and bring her back to the Light.”

After a short period of instruction, the team stepped on their plates, and the fight began. It took a few cycles, and a couple revives, but the team eventually manage to free Kalli from her imprisonment without too much difficulty.

“You have my thanks, Guardians,” Kalli begins when she’s freed, “but my sister remains enthralled.”

“Heh. _Thrall_.” The Titan chuckles. One of the Warlocks elbows them in the ribs.

“Without Shuro Chi, we cannot defeat Riven.” The Techeun said forcefully. “Find her; save her. And know this: Riven will try to seduce you.”

Myss knows a few Guardians who wouldn’t take that statement as intended, and rolls her eyes internally.

“When she speaks… Do. Not. Listen.”

The team exits via the now-open door as Kalli transmats out of the hall, and Riven begins speaking to them again.

**I CAN GIVE YOU ANYTHING.**

“Go away, Asher!” One of the Warlocks shouts instinctively, and Amara catches her breath as their former Vanguard tempts her yet again.

**WHAT IS IT YOU WANT? WEAPONS? GLORY? PEACE? OR IS IT SIMPLER THAN THAT?**

Myss squints, analyzing Riven’s words. She’s wary, but still optimistic.

The passageway leads out onto a cliff’s edge above Rheasilvia, with easy access to the massive bridge they’d all admired from the ground until now. Slowly they sidle over to the broken braces, clambering over the bridge to the opposite side, stopping every now and then to gaze at the new and unique view of The Dreaming City’s lower area.

“Imagine this place in its heyday…” The quiet Warlock mumbles.

“Petra did say the City was sacred.” Their classmate says. “Similar to the old Golden Age temples we’ve read about. I’m sure many Awoken achieved enlightenment here.”

“Just _being_ here… I feel closer to that than I’ve ever felt in my hundreds of years.”

“You guys are so sappy.” The third Hunter tuts as they pass behind on the haphazard path with ease. “Let’s go kick some Taken ass already, _nerds_.”

After a short trek once they reach the other side of the bridge, they come face-to-face with another door at the base of The First Spire.

“Shuro Chi’s probably right behind that door, eh?” The third Hunter comments.

“No doubt.” The second Warlock replies, cracking their knuckles. “Is this the Orrery one, cap?”

Myss nods, looking up to the tiered gazebos above them. “Pretty sure. The puzzle rooms we have to climb.” She turns to her team from the top of the steps, pointedly eyeing Amara. “Everyone have their place?”

The team all give varying forms of affirmation, and the group approaches the door. As it opens, hundreds of Thrall spawn in, and Riven speaks to them again.

**OH-HO YOU ARE SO TINY, YET YOU CONTINUE TO MAKE ENEMIES OF SO MANY GODS AND MONSTERS. YOU WANT BATTLE? I'LL GIVE YOU WAR.**

“Tether out!” Myss calls, signaling the team to enter the hallway.

The chase is a giant chaotic mess, the team easily defeating over a thousand thrall in their pursuit of the wily, screaming Techeun. One or two meet their brief end to a Phalanx shield, but they manage to solve the puzzles, unlock the ways up, and free Shuro Chi mere seconds from the end of her deadly song.

“You saved my sister… Thank you.” The disoriented Techeun begins, but instantly knows why the team of Guardians is before her. “Ahamkara feed on desire.” She says, eyeing each of them. “Your desires could feed a nation of such beasts. They would grow till they shadowed the sun.” Shuro Chi warns. “Kill it. Rip out its heart. Bring it to us. We will purify it. Only then will Riven be contained.”

The group hears the creaking of a door below them, and jumps down to continue their expedition as Shuro Chi disappears.

**YOU SULLY THE SACRED ARCHITECTURE OF A CULTURE YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND. ALL SO YOU CAN SAY YOU WON TODAY.**

“Traveler’s Light, Asher!” The Warlock exclaims, nearly floating off the edge as they were startled.

Myss can feel Amara’s glare, obviously angry and frustrated that this would be how she’d hear from her best friend again - with taunting, scrutinizing words. She was sure it was making her sick.

**COULD THAT BE WHAT YOU’RE DRIVING TOWARD? DO YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO WISH FOR MY DEATH?**

Myss comes to a hard stop in her trek, taken aback by Riven’s suggestion. She, they, need to be very careful about their thoughts, their desires, their wishes, lest they have those be perverted by Riven.

“The last thing I thought I’d be doing here was climbing a goddamn tree.” One of the Warlocks shouted from up ahead, interrupting her thoughts.

Shaking her head in confusion, Myss continues down the hall and, lo and behold, there’s a tree they have to climb to continue on. “Are you guys--”

“--sure there’s no other way up?” The Warlock finished. “Yes, cap. We checked.”

“Well, then… Guess there’s no choice.” Myss shrugs and begins scaling the tree, hopping along the branches. She easily beats the whiny Warlock to the top, and joins her classmates in watching the rest of their team struggle.

“Why don’t you make yourselves useful and find a way to the Keep?” The Warlock chides, glaring at the Hunters on the second floor.

“Nah, I’m good.” The third Hunter says, leaning on the railing with a shit-eating grin.

“I’ll go.” The Titan says once they mantle over the ledge, turning back to the struggling Warlocks. “Take it slow, you two.”

Myss and Amara follow the Titan, the trio looking for any clues of how to proceed. The violet geode-lined cavern has many twists and turns, and they barely manage to find the exit by the time the Warlocks join them at what would be a tiered foyer at the bridge’s platform.

**THE AWOKEN KEPT ME HERE FOR SO LONG. A BETTER FATE THAN MY KIN SUFFERED.**

The team have begun to acclimate to Riven’s interruptions, but listen nonetheless. It’s free information that Petra couldn’t - or wouldn’t - offer them, if nothing else. Myss, in particular, is listening carefully at the insinuation that the Awoken played a large part in the Great Hunt. Though, she’s aware that Riven’s likely trying to gain their sympathy.

**BUT PARADISE IS A PRISON WHEN YOU CANNOT LEAVE.**

Everyone eyed each other at that.

“Riven’s trapped? Not just… Living here?” The Titan asks quietly.

**I WOULD SO LOVE TO REPAY THE HOSPITALITY OF THOSE WHO USED MY WORDS TO CARVE THIS CITY INTO THE SCREAMING SURFACE OF REALITY.**

The team feel a burst of Taken energy nearby, and climb to the would-be-bridge’s platform. The bridge itself is gone, but an Ascendant portal stands at the gates. On the other side of the canyon, a courtyard and another massive door can be seen.

Myss points upwards. “That’s the entrance to the Keep over there.”

“Well. Only one way over, I guess.” The third Hunter states, leaping into the portal.

Soon after, the rest of the team follows suit, only to find the shattered parts of the bridge spinning and floating in a broken mess along the Ascendant plane.

“Why does Riven hate Warlocks?” One of them groans.

“Just go slow. Move passively.” Myss comforts. “We’re not in a terrible rush.”

“You really think Riven made all these jumping puzzles from her cage?” Asks the third Hunter. “It was probably Oryx when he invaded.”

“He invaded the Dreaming City?” The Titan questions, skating onto a shard of the brace.

The Hunter scoffs, running over the large, spinning platforms. “How else do you think he was able to Take Riven?”

“I still remember seeing his true form…” The Titan reminisces as they jump between bridge parts. “I never felt so hopeless than when his giant head - the size of a Fallen Skiff - rose over the edge of his Throne Room.”

Myss, listening, in awe of the story, manages to make it to solid ground first, followed closely by Amara. The former shoots her girlfriend a look, accompanied by a tilt of her head, to which the latter responds with a determined nod. When they jump through the portal and back into their own plane, Riven speaks again.

**THERE IS NO END TO THE TAKEN. YOU HAVE STOLEN FROM THEM MORE THAN THEY COULD EVER TAKE FROM YOU. YOU ARE DESTINED TO FIGHT FOREVER.**

“Ain’t that the truth…” The quiet Warlock sighs, leaping through the portal.

“Why does Riven sound like Lord Shaxx?” Asks the third Hunter. “I didn’t sign up for Crucible today.”

“‘ _No. Shaxx… sounds like Riven._ ’” The Titan mocks in a very Osiris-like voice, which causes the entire team to laugh in some capacity. Even the Warlocks, who hold Osiris in a respectful position, let out their own chuckles.

Once Amara comes down from her giggles, she gestures to the glowing, lumpy tumor on the front step of the Keep with a confused “What. The. Hell.”

“That’s… disgusting.” Says the quiet Warlock. “Is this what Petra detected? The presence blocking the door?”

“Must be.” Myss says, inhaling. “Alright, let’s split into two teams and see what we can do.”

Some trial and lots of error later, after picking up the Ogre’s own Strength and losing it, they finally figure out how to sap his energy. They then quickly manage to pop the glowing, pulsating blister-tumors on the Spirekeeper’s back, and are drenched in Taken Goo the moment they do.

“EWWWW!” The Titan screeches.

“Gross… but cool.” The third Hunter chuckles. The Warlocks are both thoroughly disgusted and fascinated by the substance, and Myss and Amara spend a moment shaking their cloaks free of the goop.

Amid their success, the door to the Keep opens, and the team make their way through another threshold once they’ve rid themselves of Morgeth’s remains. After they’re through, Riven speaks again.

**YOU DON’T HESITATE TO REACH INTO THE DEEP. YOUR KIND IS SO BRAVE. THOSE WITH CONVICTION PAIR BEST WITH MY KIND. LIKE YOU. LIKE THE AWOKEN PRINCE. SHALL WE BE FRIENDS?**

“Hell no.” One of the Warlocks replies with an incredulous chuckle.

“Compare me to Uldren again and I’ll…” The third Hunter pauses. “Well, we’re already going to kill her, so…”

The Titan laughs, but the team’s commentary is cut short as they enter the Keep’s courtyard.

“What I wouldn’t give to see this before the Taken War…” Myss says, taking a moment to absorb the scenery.

“I mean… You did.” Amara pokes her arm. “You just don’t remember it because you’re a Guardian now.”

Myss rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean, ‘Mara.”

Amara shrugs, following the team up the steps and around the corner.

“I get what you mean, cap.” The second Warlock says. “It definitely looks like this place was bustling. It must have been a central location for the Awoken here.”

“Now they’re scattered and slaughtered, afraid to return.” The Titan says somberly. “I hope they can come home soon.”

The team easily all agree on that.

The next room they enter is lined with statues of Awoken women, and a dark gazebo laid into the wall.

“Is that…?” The third Hunter begins, examining the back of the gazebo. They throw a grenade to illuminate the area, but have little success. It’s only when the quiet Warlock drops a rift that the statue is bathed in light.

“Riven?” They all say in unison.

“Do you think it’s to scale?” The Titan asks.

“I’d think it has to be at least half her actual size.” Myss says. “There are no reports of Ahamkara bigger than the one that Lord Shaxx has hanging in his office, right?”

“None that I know of.” The quiet Warlock replies. “I didn’t fight any that large during the Hunt. She’s probably bigger than that, but not by much.”

“Does she have a split mandible?” Asks the other Warlock. “I can’t tell because of the shape they carved her head in.”

“Maybe she doesn’t.” Says the third Hunter. “Besides, Ahamkara can change their appearance based on what we expect to see, right? Now we expect to see this when we get there.”

They all concede their questions, and ascend the elevator. Riven speaks to them once again as they’re deposited on the next level.

**YOU’RE SO CLOSE, FRIEND. FIND ME. KILL ME. MY HEART IS YOURS.**

“Oh…” The third Hunter says. “She’s onto us.”

“She’s been onto us since we got here.” The quiet Warlock retorts. “Guard your thoughts and desires, everyone.”

“I can’t believe we have to open another door.” The Titan groans, looking at the intimidating mechanism.

“At least we know how to open it.” Myss says, standing up straight and taking her place on one of the blue plates. “Get ready, team.”

The old method of delivery had been thrown out the window thanks to the Taken invasion and infestation, but the forms of the essences had remained the same, and were all they needed to worry about. Cleansing the plates with the correct essences unlocked the mechanism, opened the door to the Vault, and to The Queenswalk.

“Those knights, man…” The Titan sighed. “Too tanky.”

“You had some close calls there.” The Hunter chuckles. “We all did.”

“Whoa!” One of the Warlocks exclaims when they enter the hall. “There’s a sample environment of Earth here! And Nessus!”

“How…?” Their classmate muses. “Past Mercury? And Io?”

“Do you still have Asher in your head?” The Hunter asks one of the Warlocks.

“Unfortunately.” They respond.

“Think he’d argue about the sample?” The Hunter continues. “How there’s no model of the Pyramidion?”

“That all depends on when they made these exhibits.” The Warlock shrugs. “I don’t know. Though we haven’t heard from Riven in a while.”

“Well, according to Petra, we should be coming up on her right about… now…” Myss says as the final door opens, and they’re greeted by a large circular room with aquarium-like windows lining the walls. A large model of a planet, which has been blighted, sits over the center of the room. All is quiet, but there is no sign of Riven herself.

“Where is she? How do we…” Amara begins, but is cut off by one of the Warlocks.

“Shh. Do you hear that?” They ask, head facing the floor. “It… sounds like a whale.”

The team pauses and waits in silence, and sure enough they hear the soft, melodic, whale-like groaning coming from below.

“How big is she?” The other Warlock questions quietly. “If she’s making whale sounds…”

“She’s below us? So how do we get down?” The Titan asks.

“Why don’t we try standing on the very obvious glowing plates?” The third Hunter quips, pointing to the six - convenient - plates around the room.

Once they’re all ready, they step foot on their respective plates. Almost immediately, impenetrable domes form over them, and they’re plunged into the cavern below. 

Finally, they’re face-to-face with Riven of a Thousand Voices.

“Holy mother of SHIT.” The quiet Warlock says in shock.

Myss gasps, as she was on the plate that Riven was facing as she fell, and she could feel the Ahamkara’s powerful gaze on her. Her view stays up on the Riven as she continues downward, but she comes to her senses when her feet hit the ground.

The team splits into two groups of three, and each enter the room they were closest to when they fell.

“That statue downstairs is not half of her size!” The third Hunter shouts over the comms from across the room.

“No shit!” The Titan says.

“Focus, everyone!” Myss says, entering the yellow room with Amara and the quiet Warlock. As Taken began spawning, a large shadow passed over the aquarium window.

“Oh boy she’s here.” The Warlock on the other side called.

“What do you mean ‘She’s here’?” Myss asked.

“She came through the window and her whole head’s poking in here.” The Titan calls back. “Get to cover! What did Petra say about fire?”

“Her mouth! When she’s done!” The third Hunter said, followed by a Golden Gun shot. “Got her!”

“Shit! Two of her eyes were glowing!” The Titan called.

“Which ones?” Myss asked in a panic as she killed the Eye of Riven on her side, ducking out of the way when she heard Riven clambering over to their side.

“Second from the left, third from the right!”

“Got it!” Myss replies as Riven crawls through the barrier. “She’s here! Shoot out those eyes!”

“Aye-aye! Oh she’s a big girl with so many eyes.” Amara says, shooting the blight that Riven conjured in her mouth. “I’ve got the rightmost.”

“I’ve got the left!” The quiet Warlock says. “Three, two, one… Fire!”

The pair shoot her eyes in unison, and Riven retreats as her faceplates close.

“Got her!” They cheer, high fiving each other.

“Get the elevators working!” Myss orders to each team, hopping up to the window to instruct Amara on which symbol to cleanse. Both elevators are activated momentarily, and everyone manages to reach the second floor.

The quiet Warlock is the first to the second floor, and announces that Riven was waiting for them with tentacles bared.

“Tentacles?!” The third Hunter calls from the other side.

“S’what I said!” They replied as Myss and Amara entered behind them. “She’s not doing anything. Do you think I should bait her?”

“Give it a go.” Myss says. “I’ll get ready to cover you.”

As the Warlock approaches Riven, one of her tentacles begins twitching and glowing, and fully bares itself before plunging down towards the Warlock, who manages to get out of the way just in time. The slam disorients them all, but Myss manages to stun Riven.

“Oh, the eyes!” She calls. “Uh.. last two on the right!”

“Last two on the right heard.” The Titan calls. “Here she is. Get ready! Three, two, one… fire! Got her!”

“Elevators!” Myss reminds them, and they’re back up on the main floor together in little time.

“Where’s she gonna be?” The third Hunter asks, and is answered by Riven popping in behind them.

“To the middle!” Myss orders as Riven bares her tentacles again “Get rid of those Ogres before baiting her!”

Various sounds of affirmation flow through the comms, and Riven’s stunned moments later.

“Farthest left, middle-most right!” The Titan calls out. “‘Locks, you get those.”

The pair agree.

“Again!” Myss orders as Riven pokes her head through the next window. “Fire! Shoot her throat!”

When Riven’s stunned again, the Titan calls out the next set of eyes. “Those are for me and GG.”

“You got it chief.” Replies the third Hunter.

“Once more!” Myss calls. “Tentacles again! Bait once the Ogres are down!”

The Titan calls out Riven’s eyes again, and assigns them to Myss and Amara.

Once she reaches the fourth window, Riven’s faceplates open, and she conjures a blight in her mouth.

“Here it comes! Shoot the blight and then the eyes!” Myss commands, heart racing. As her vision begins to blur, she counts down her team. “Okay everyone! Three, two, one, fire!”

Riven’s faceplates close, and she retreats back into the window.

“Got her! Okay, we need to go back down there.” Myss says, shaking.

“Clear out the Taken first!” The Titan calls, taking out an Ogre up high.

Once they’re all back on their plates, they fall into the chamber once more.

“The infection!” The quiet Warlock says. “Shoot those cysts!”

Everyone follows suit, popping the cysts and drenching themselves with Taken goo like they had against Morgeth. Riven lets out a shrill cry when the last cyst is burst, and everyone is suddenly teleported into an Ascendant plane surrounding the large Ahamkara.

“Petra didn’t prepare us for this!” The third Hunter cries.

“How could she?” Amara says. “Just go! Get up there!”

The team move as one, the Titan using their hammers to clear out as much as they could.

“She’s so fucking big.” One of the Warlocks muses, staring at Riven as she waited in the center of this realm. As their eyes follow up Riven’s body, they notice a clue. “There’s a Taken strength in front of her face! Grab that!”

“Got it!” Myss responds as she leads the pack, fighting her way to the top.

“I might not make it!” The Titan calls as their shield breaks, but the quiet Warlock drops a rift for them.

“I fell!” The other Warlock cries, bracing for death, but is thankfully caught and teleported out with the group right as Myss grabs the Taken Strength.

“I got you.” Myss says, breathing heavily as the weight of the Strength sits on her chest.

The group is interrupted as Riven pokes her head out of the window in front of them, conjuring a blight in her mouth. Unfortunately, there’s no more eyes left to shoot.

“The blight!” Myss calls in a panic as her vision begins to wobble. “Shoot the blight!”

The team follows her orders, but it doesn’t feel like enough. In a desperate attempt, Myss reaches for her Light, pulls out a shield, and holds it firm in front of her team, sacrificing her damage to giving the others’ weapons a boost. Riven begins to visibly flinch at the increase in incoming damage and, ultimately, succumbs to the Guardians’ firepower. Her whole being erupts with Taken corruption, which expels itself out of her mouth.

“We did it!” Cheers the third Hunter, hugging the quiet Warlock.

“Does anyone else hear that heartbeat?” The Titan asks.

“The Heart!” Amara cries.

Myss says nothing as she darts up to Riven’s mouth and down her throat without a second thought, various curses and incredulities leaving the fireteam as they follow behind her. When she reaches the core, there’s a very angry blight waiting for them, and Myss finds herself wishing she didn’t spend her Light so soon. The team arrive and all turn their firepower to the blight, which gives in to their attack and drops a small stone to the floor of the cavern a few moments later.

**AH, I'VE WAITED SO LONG TO FULFILL ONE LAST WISH.**

The team all freeze, startled that Riven is still speaking to them. Though they momentarily remember that Ahamkara can still communicate past death, it remains unnerving that the creature you just defeated is talking to you. Myss wants to analyze what Riven said, what she meant by one last wish, but the moment is interrupted by the Techeuns hacking into their comm lines.

 _[Fetch the heart! Hurry!]_ Kalli urges.

“Be right there.” Myss replies, exhaling. “We ready? We’re probably going to have one hell of a fight.”

“As ready as we’ll ever be.” The quiet Warlock says.

“I think it wants me to hold it.” The third Hunter interrupts. “Let’s go.”

They pick up the heart, and the group begins to move out of Riven’s belly. As they reach her jaw, the third Hunter can feel themselves slipping, and urge everyone to back off as they’re taken away.

“I’ve got it!” The other Warlock says as they pick up the heart, and the rest of the team lets loose on the throng of Taken waiting for them. “I’m about to go, guys! Back-- wait… I’m okay?”

The third Hunter sends a quick and staticky “I got you! There’s strength in here!” over the comms.

“Left! Go left!” The Titan calls once they reach the next room.

“There’s no strength to pick up!” The third Hunter warns, and the other Warlock prepares to hand it off. It drops to the floor, and the weight of the Darkness began to creep up on them.

“Got it!” Amara says as she picks up the heart, hopping over the broken floor. “Get those Phalanxes please!”

The team take care of the Taken enemies blocking their path, and Amara is gone by the time they reach the Vault.

“Go right!” Myss calls, clearing out more Taken, though the quiet Warlock falls victim to the Knight that was following them.

The Titan’s time runs out about halfway through the Vault, and then it’s only Myss left. The weight of the stone is enormous, slowing her movement and impeding her Light. It’s a wonder she can still heal from the swipes the Thrall were taking at her. She almost slips away right as she falls down the elevator, but the other side held her there. As she lands, she can see Kalli and Shuro Chi waiting beside the now-illuminated statue of Riven, and she knew that was where she had to go.

"I am glad you did not heed her words. We will finish this.” Kalli urges as Myss ascends the stairs, the slipping feeling nearly taking her as she places the Heart before the Techeuns. Once she is free of the Heart, her team appears beside her, also freed from the Heart as the Techeuns begin a ritual.

“Riven, of a Thousand Voices, architect of this city…” They say in unison as the Taken corruption begins to filter out of the Heart. The team can do nothing but stare in awed silence. “Return to us… for the sake of plans to come." The corruption is fully filtered with a final clap from the Techeuns, everyone flinching briefly at the bright light the purification ritual caused.

“It is done.” Kalli said, lowering her arms in time with Shuro Chi. “We will meet you on the other side." With a small salute, the pair of Techeuns disappear, and the team is left alone in the Hall of Two Souls.

Just as they begin thinking of celebrating, they are interrupted once again.

**I THOUGHT THEY'D NEVER LEAVE.**

All remain silent as Riven speaks in the various voices she’d chosen for each of them, wary of everything she said.

**YOU AND I ARE NOT DONE. WE'RE INSEPARABLE NOW. THROUGH YOUR ACTIONS, WE'VE FORGED AN AGE-OLD BOND BETWEEN MY KIND AND YOURS.**

“Shit…” The third Hunter whispers.

**ONE WISH GRANTED DESERVES ANOTHER. AND I CANNOT WAIT TO SHOW YOU WHAT SHE ASKED FOR.**

“ _She_?” Three of them asked in quiet unison.

**O MURDERER MINE…**

A moment of pregnant silence passes between the fireteam members, and then all let out a collective, deep exhale of relief.

“That’s not good.” The quiet Warlock said. “That’s ancient possessive language--”

“Can we give it a rest?!” The Titan interrupts, frantic. “We just defeated the largest Ahamkara known in the solar system! We destroyed the Awoken’s largest secret! We just completed the largest Raid any Guardian’s ever done!” They look between each member of the team. “We should be celebrating above all else!”

The Titan’s enthusiasm brightens each of their moods, and they all agree to take a few moments to relish in the victory, to cry, to scream, to let out all the emotions they’d held back during the fight.

Myss sits down on the steps leading up to the Gazebo, and Amara quickly sits herself beside her girlfriend. “How’re you doing?” The Awoken asks as she wraps her arm around the shorter’s shoulder.

“I’m… Okay.” Amara admits shakily. “Considering everything.”

“Riven’s choice shake you up a lot?”

“You have no idea.” Amara says, leaning into Myss’ chest. “Especially that last _murderer mine_ line. Sounded like Cayde was accusing me of killing him, and that hurts.”

“Oh, babe.” Myss consoles, holding Amara tighter. “You know damn well that’s not true.”

“I do, but it doesn’t stop it from hurting.” Amara sighs. “But it’s over now.”

“Mmm.” Myss closes her eyes, pressing her lips to Amara’s red hair.

“Cap!” The Titan calls, interrupting the girls’ peaceful moment.

Myss looks to him, question in her eyes.

“You can use Banner Shield?!” They ask incredulously, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. “You’re a Hunter!”

“I--uh.” Myss had forgotten about that moment, and she scratches the back of her head nervously. “I’m usually used to popping a Ward of Dawn, actually.”

“Wh--The question still stands!” The Titan presses. “How in the _hell_?”

“You’ve never heard of a Multiclasser before?” Amara asks.

“I--” The Titan flounders. “I thought they were a myth. A relic of the Iron Lords, of the Dark Age, before Guardians were organized into classes.”

“Felwinter didn’t care.” The quiet Warlock interrupts. “I’d know.” There’s an amazed pause, which they break a moment later. “But I digress. Congrats, cap. Good job.”

“Thanks.” Myss chuckles sheepishly. “Honestly though, fantastic job from everyone. We make a good team, don’t we?”

“That we do.” The third Hunter chimes in with a smile.

“I’d be glad to team up with any of you again.” The other Warlock says.

“After this though, I’m dying to get back in the crucible.” The quiet Warlock chuckles. “Other Guardians seem like a piece of cake after that.”

 _[Guardians!]_ The group’s sentimental moment is interrupted by Petra on their comms. _[Congratulations on your victory!]_ She pauses. _[…But I’m afraid I have bad news.]_

“What’s happened?” Myss and several others ask in unison.

 _[My Queen commanded me to slay a beast. I could not do it alone, so I turned to you, the Guardians.]_ Petra began. _[You six brave heroes came to destroy my people’s greatest secret. Riven. The last known Ahamkara. A creature of immense power and cunning.]_

The group is starting to wonder where this redundant recap is going, and they make their way out to the courtyard outside of the spire.

_[You killed Riven and ripped out her heart… But Ahamkara transcend death. They can transform desire into reality, even when they are nothing but bone and dust.]_

A sinking feeling takes root in their chests.

_[I should have known that Riven would grant one last wish. One last curse.]_

“Oh…” Myss says, grief welling in her throat as they exit. “That’s what she was talking about…”

_[Now… the Dreaming City has been Taken.]_

“No…” The team gasps incredulously at the sight they’re greeted with when they reach the courtyard. There are several new blights on the Spire itself, and they all notice the faint smell of ozone in the atmosphere. The Titan’s fist nearly cracks with the angry force they’re clenching it with.

 _[_ I _opened the gates._ I _ordered the attack. I…]_ Petra pauses, and Myss could swear the Queen’s Wrath was blinking back tears. _[…should have known.]_

Five minutes ago, they thought it was all over.

Now they realize they were only just getting started.

 _[I await your return in the Divalian Mists.]_ Petra sighs. _[I’m… sorry.]_


	5. Bows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of Myss’ lore just... falls into my lap and then I have to figure out how it goes together. This is the piece that does that about bows.

Before she began fighting for the Dreaming City, Myss couldn’t explain her affinity for bows. 

In her first days as a Guardian, when she first called upon her Light to manifest as her Super, it formed into a bow. It was a recurve bow, large, violet and spiked, swirling violently with void energy. That energy coiled like a snake in the space between the body and the string and, when released, waited like a spider in a web, ready to strike and ensnare her prey. Her foes never saw her coming. 

She leaned on that bow for a while, honed her skill, enhanced her kit, and gained experience. Nightstalkers were few and far between, even with the resurgence after the King’s defeat, and every one the Vanguard had in their arsenal was an asset too valuable to lose. Even still, she was active in the field, if only to keep her mind occupied on something other than her trauma, and her visibility put her name in a lot of people’s minds.

When Ghaul came for the Traveler, when her first bow was taken from her, she fashioned herself a new one. This second bow was one of hand-carved wood and salvaged string in place of solidified Light. She used this bow to hunt, to survive, and to end the lives of the few Cabal who crossed her path. She stuck to the trees as best she could, keeping her mortality in mind, using the height and stealth to stay out of sight, or gain the upper hand in any minor battles against her foes.

Even after the Light returned, she never questioned why she knew how to build a bow during the war, how to string one, or why it was the most comfortable weapon in her capable hands. With so many guns easily accessible at the farm, why choose bows? When she returned to her first final resting place before the war, she found nothing, which led her to assume it was a new talent she received with the Light, something she was reborn to wield.

Then, during their hunt for Uldren, Petra presented her with a simple compound bow, “straight from the Vestian Armory”, she had said. Before this, there was almost no record of bows in the hands of Guardians that they themselves had not fashioned or conjured. With enough time and tuning, Myss’ own simple recurve from the Red War could have become something of a legend, if the opening of the Awoken Armories to Guardian hands did not suddenly saturate the market with bows, and put her own creation into retirement. 

The compounds, the recurve, the one she recovered during the Raid, even the rarest one from Ada-1’s Black Armory, she became proficient with each of them instantly. She found it easy, better even, to wield them while while most other Guardians tossed them into their vaults with a scowl, or discarded them in favour of more comfortable firearms and valuable materials.

Once she entered the Shattered Throne, approached Sjur Eido’s memorial statue, and later returned after proving her worth, she began putting the pieces together.

When she retrieved the magnificent ivory-like longbow from the statue’s arms, it was half-strung. Without a thought, she steps through the space between the string and the body, braces the bottom half along her opposite ankle, uses her strength to pull the upper arm towards her, and hooks the other end of the string to the arm. It’s only after she holds the ornate, freshly strung bow in her hand to test its draw that she realizes what she’d just done, and begins to question everything anew.

How did she know how to string bows? Why did Sjur wield a bow? Why was the Vestian Armory known for its bows? Why did she find a bow in the Keep of Voices? Why was her main Super a bow?

If only she’d examined the evidence closer, if she’d actually gone through with her visit to the Reef before the war, she’d have found the answer. It was only an educational guess now, but what other explanation was there?

Her weapons of choice in her first life… had to have been bows. 

She knew she was a member of the Awoken military before she died. Rezzed in a Galliot, wearing identification, in corsair-like armor, and died after the fight with the King. Her ship had no weapons in its hold, only a small cubby with photos, some data in its systems, and a large banner bearing the Queen’s Mark. The Galliot could have been looted before she was raised or returned, or she could have not brought any other weaponry to that final battle.

Catching her breath, her thoughts return to the broken and bare throne world she was traversing. Her head is dizzy with revelations, frantically trying to put everything together. There were too many thoughts buzzing and bouncing off of the walls in her mind to really focus on the task at hand properly anymore.

Her attention’s pulled when she notices a glint at the statue’s would-be feet. She approaches to examine and finds a pair of gauntlets, equally as ornate as the bow she just recovered. Gold scales covered the tricep, whereas the rest was armored by an opalescent material, carved with plant-like patterns in relief, inlaid with gold, and forearm bracers of engraved crystal. If these belonged to Sjur, the fabled archer of the Awoken, she wonders what power they hold for her or the bow.

This moment feels like a passing of the torch. Like Sjur was charging her with breaking the curse, putting her trust in a former ally, possibly, to do what she cannot. As she reaches for the gauntlets, a voice echoes from somewhere nearby and simultaneously incredibly far away.

_Let my hand guide you._

She grips the bow with two hands, winces, and stares up at the image of its original owner with enlightened and weepy eyes. 

For the first time since her rebirth, she understands.


	6. Battle Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I gave up on writing about the first few curses and Myss' reactions to them and instead jumped to here. I should write more but I'm uninspired atm
> 
> See you for the next update, whenever that is.

She sits high above the City, along the Citadel walls.  


She watches. She waits.

The large marble-like bow rests across her lap, its weight seeming to increase tenfold as she waited. Its previous owner had declared her more than worthy to wield the mighty bow, though she often feels like that worth was misplaced, weighted unfairly on meaningless artifacts rather than her own true merits. 

Half a mile below, a gazebo rests bathed in blue-green mist. Another cycle is over, and the next is about to begin. The atmosphere loses its eerie pink hue, the blights recede from the Statue of the Mother, and the Taken speckles slowly dissipate from the air. Behind her, the threatening aura at the peak of the Keep’s spire dissolves within itself, leaving its face as pristine as the day she first entered. She can breathe easier, though only for a moment. 

A renewed cycle means only one thing: she has failed. Again. 

She mourns.

Mourns the imminent loss of a culture both immeasurably ancient and familiar. Mourns an inexplicable desire for connection and understanding, which slips away a little more every time the curse begins anew. Mourns for the innocent victims, dying and suffering over and over again in defense of this once-sacred place. Mourns for the fate these people - her people - must endure week over week… 

Thanks to her.

She lays back on the wall, her legs dangling over the edge as she wraps her arms around her face, one that’s exposed for the first time in several days. She’s become accustomed to wearing her helmet to hide it around others, the scars from the constant use of Queensfoil - a minty-liquorice eye-opening elixir - surely being too garish for her to let anyone else see, lest they begin fretting over her wellbeing or fearing for their own. 

She’s determined to break the curse, even if it breaks her body, or herself, along the way. This was her fault, it’s only right if she suffers just as much as everyone else, if not more.

She inhales a slow lungful of the fresher air, and the exhale is shaky.

Sitting up, she draws her knife, digs it into the wall, and drags a line directly across a set of four others. There’s another set just to the left that looks exactly like the one she just finished. They’re tallies, and they read “ten” - the number of curse cycles this city and the people have endured. Seven months. Thirty weeks. Two hundred and ten days. 

It’s been weeks since she last left this City. Half that since the last time she spoke to her girlfriend. She wonders how she’s doing, considers sending her a quick holovid, telling her she loves her and misses her, but she can’t bear to let her see her like this.

Her Ghost appears before her, first looking at her knife embedded in the wall, then to her. She does not meet his optic. He floats awkwardly, as if he wanted to say something, but vanishes. He’s said his piece a hundred times over, and she’s well aware of how he feels. She’s stopped caring, and he’s stopped trying.

From behind and above her, an Awoken Galliot nearly misses her on its way down to the gazebo in the mists. The ship deposits a woman in a stark white cloak on the ridge of the stone outcropping it was built upon, and she begins setting up for the new week, for cycle number ten. Even from up here, she can tell the Queen’s Wrath is looking out over the Strand as proudly as she did the first day she arrived in the City. 

They both wait.

It’s nearly an hour before the first sparrow rolls up the long pathway to the Queen’s Wrath, ten minutes longer than last week.

Other Guardians are losing faith in the fight. Many abandoned the cause a few cycles in, yet others still remained, and now even those few are beginning to dwindle. It will only be a few cycles more before she, Petra, and all the unwitting Awoken forces that were trapped in the City when the curse began are the only remaining defenses fighting back the curse. 

She’d heard of a pre-Golden Age myth, about a man who was condemned for eternity to hold the world on his shoulders after losing a fierce battle. Although she knows this world is flat, resting on a silver disk in the heart of a singularity hidden within the cis-jovian asteroid belt, she feels empathetic with that ancient mythical man. 

She holds herself differently now, like the weight of the burden has a constant presence on her shoulders. She stands herself straight, shoulders low, grip on her weapon ready but loose with practiced skill, eyes - though often hidden - bloodshot and murky, and her smile… nonexistent, tired, or forced. 

Though she was proud to be called the Rivensbane, a title bestowed upon her by the Queen’s Wrath and Techeuns themselves after months of dedication, of holding this world’s fate on her back, she had yet to earn her most coveted title.

Cursebreaker.

She leaps off the wall, ready to begin her cyclical work for the tenth time. She hopes. She prays. Prays that the fight is over soon. Hopes that her people will endure until she can break this curse.

For a moment, she almost wishes.

But she knows better than to wish for anything.

Wishing’s what got her here, after all.


End file.
